I Was Born to Destroy You
by FirstxLove
Summary: But they're wrong. She knows they're wrong. Enjolras says they're wrong. If there was something wrong in her head, it would not have been Enjolras. He is real and he is right.


**AN:** I just wanted to write a piece with a dark Enjolras and this is the result. And I also wanted to show you all that I'm not dead and tell y'all that I'm working on chapter 4. I didn't intend it to end like...how it ends, but it does. Such is the life!

* * *

There are three of them in this room at St John's psychiatric ward.

_Mad, mad, she is mad_.

She was admitted three years ago, but they were already there. One is a struggling alcoholic and the other is obsessive compulsive. They are here because they tried to change and fix themselves, but were unsuccessful – all eleven times. Now, they are here for their own safety, but what the doctors and the orderlies and the rest of the world really mean is that they are not safe enough for society.

Welcome to the level 5 psych ward at St. John's – where you come in and you never come out.

There are only three of them here now. One is Grantaire and the other is Joly. There used to be eight before Éponine, but five wilted away.

_Forgotten, forgotten, lost. Free_.

When she came to the ward, she was welcomed with open arms. They welcome her because she is like them. She's here because she's mad.

_I'm not mad. I can't be mad. What unfortunate circumstances._

There's a something in her head, they said. It made her wrong. It made her mad. It's schizo-schizo-something. But they're wrong. She knows they're wrong. Enjolras says they're wrong. If there was something wrong in her head, it would not have been Enjolras. He is real and he is right. She does not have schizo-schizo-something.

_Run away with me, 'Ponine. We'll go on an adventure._

_I'll take you to faraway lands and I'll show you the world. _

_Fly, fly, let's fly. _

_Leave this place; it holds you down_.

"I have to leave." The orderlies push her back into her seat. "Enjolras says it's time to go."

"No, Ms. Thénardier. Enjolras is wrong. You have to stay here." The rest of the room looks on in sadness. They know well enough that none of them would be leaving.

At night, her screams echo in the dark hallways and she keeps the doctors and orderlies awake. It is in the night where she remembers her loneliness and the hatred and the neglect. She remembers slaps and kicks and that is when she flashes in and out of consciousness.

They say she lashes out at them. She shouts and demeans them. Her words are venom. Then they say she calms down, remembering nothing of her episodes moments ago. They say she calmly sits down and tells them tales of Enjolras – her brave, passionate soldier – and how in the darkness, he is the only one who found her and the only one who wanted her.

Multiple personalities, they say later. Because she can't remember.

Wrong. Because she remembers everything.

* * *

_Hello Éponine. My name is Enjolras_.

"What do you want?" Her fingers toy with the hem of her shirt. It is midnight.

_You_.

"What would you want with me?" She eyes him as he sits on her bed by her feet. "I'm broken. My parents say I'm broken. No one wants me. No one would ever want me."

_Well, I do. I want you. And you want to know something?_

She looks up at him and her gaze is blank, but there is something sparking in the depths of her eyes. Enjolras is starting to bring her back to life.

_They're wrong. The rest of the world is wrong because you aren't broken. You are perfect. But I will protect you. _

She reaches for him and the smile he gives her is radiant. He touches her hand and there is light. He presses his lips to her knuckles and she feels warm.

"You will have me?"

_Hi there, my 'Ponine._

She smiles.

* * *

Humans are vile. There are murderers and rapists and liars and cowards. They poison the world with their greed and their lies. They kill and hurt other people – their brothers and friends. All humans are vile – except hers, she says. Not Grantaire. Not Joly. Not Enjolras.

They don't know Enjolras. No one does. No one knows him like she does.

No one knows her like he does.

_Take it. Take it and you'll be free._

_But what about Grantaire? What about Joly?_

_They'll come too. They're family. They'll come too._

_Are you coming?_

_Do you love me?_

_Yes._

_Then come._

Before here it was always dark. No one understood her. She was always on her own. She hated the pitying glances and she hated the shame. Why should she be pitied? And why should she feel shame? Could they not see him? Her golden Apollo beside her?

Enjolras is her only light. He is the only one she needs.

When she comes to St John's, she finds more light. Grantaire and Joly are hers; she is theirs. _I know them. I know them well. Go, 'Ponine. They're good. They're trapped. They need to be free too, like you._

He whispers in her ear and tells her of the world's madness.

He's the only right one. He's the only thing that makes sense.

Why couldn't they see him? Could they not hear his beautiful words?

Grantaire and Joly can't see him either. At first she is angry with them; Enjolras is their friend, why did they not see him? But, later, she is okay with that because they believe her and only wish to know Enjolras as she does.

She sits in her room and the clock strikes midnight. She is in her bed and Enjolras is beside her. She is pressed into his side and his arms are around her. He strokes her hair gently and he hums a song as she lies on his chest. She can hear his heartbeat in her ears and feel it under her palm.

_Are you ready to come home with me, 'Ponine?_

"Yes." She puts her hand into his pocket. "Bring me home, Enjolras."

_Find me. Find me. No more pills beside me._

* * *

At first it is dark and cold and she is afraid. Then she sees a light in the darkness and she runs to it. She finds people she does not recognize, but she knows them very well. It is the first time that Éponine ever feels welcomed and loved and she knows that she is now in the right place.

There is Combeferre, Courfeyrac, Feuilly, Bahorel, and Bossuet. She is in the right place.

Her smile falters slightly, her gaze looking for the one who has saved her, her golden Apollo.

_Hi there, my 'Ponine_.

Her smile is radiant and she is free.

* * *

"Doctor, she is not responding to us. Not even when we mention Enjolras."

"Let her be, Courfeyrac."

"Yes, Doctor Combeferre."


End file.
